


What You See

by Alathe



Series: Growing up Witchers [1]
Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Not Beta Read, Witcher Trials, trans eskel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-18
Updated: 2020-09-18
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:36:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26523037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alathe/pseuds/Alathe
Summary: Eskel is not quite like the other boys at Kaer Morhen, but maybe he can get what he wants before setting out on the path.
Relationships: Eskel & Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia
Series: Growing up Witchers [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2042764
Comments: 10
Kudos: 45





	What You See

**Author's Note:**

> I have definitely tweaked the Trials for this story, but I explain within the story. We go through the Trials, so there is childhood trauma inducing stuff, but I don't think I'm too graphic.
> 
> How did this happen? Well, while writing Theatre of Death, a voice in the back of my head got my attention to ask:  
> "What about Eskel?"  
> Me: Uh, he's not in this story.  
> Voice: No, what about ESKEL?  
> Me: Ok, fine, what about him?  
> Voice: He's trans.
> 
> Also, I'm really bad with tags, so I welcome suggestions.

He grew up in the hills, away from everyone else, and they never went to town if they could help it. His mother hated going to town. So Eskel had no way of knowing that he was only slightly small for boys his age, but definitely larger than the girls. He really didn't know anything about other children. His father wasn't around, he wasn't sure why. Lots of things don't make sense when you're that young, and even fewer things stick in your mind.

He remembered walking in the snow with his mother, and being very cold and tired. He remembered waking up frightened in a warm bed, a man with strange yellow eyes hovering over him. When he asked for his mother, the man shook his head gently and spoke soothingly. Eskel felt pressure in his mind, it made him think of the comfort of a fire, and feeling full and content as if he'd just had a large bowl of stew. He wouldn't understand until later, as he was learning signs, that Vesemir had cast Axii on him then, pushing him back into sleep so he could recover from the hypothermia.

~~~~

It wasn't long before some of the boys started giving him a hard time about being gentle, either. He'd never been a mean kid. Lots of things about the way he had been raised meant he needed to be gentle. He learned he needed to be careful when dealing with the baby goats, or milking the nanny, to have a soft touch when collecting eggs or taking care of the chicks. 

But at Kaer Morhen, nearly nothing required that kind of tenderness. Two of the bigger children pushed him down, because he wouldn't fight back. He didn't want to fight with the other boys. He wanted to save people from monsters, Vesemir had told him that's what he would train for here. Another boy, probably about his age but broader in the shoulders with a mop of curly brown hair punched one of them in the face and _ growled  _ at the other. The older boys backed off, and blazing green eyes turned to him.

"I'm Geralt." He said, smiling and offering his hand to help Eskel up, and Eskel gratefully accepted.

"Eskel." He smiled back.

"Nice to meet you."

~~~~

They were supposed to be studying. But the sun was high and it was one of the first really warm days of spring. Neither Eskel nor Geralt could concentrate, so when Geralt got his attention and indicated they should sneak off, Eskel was all for it. It wasn't easy to sneak away, but they used the fact that they looked so similar to get away with it. Eskel asked to make a trip to the garderobe, and hid nearby. A few moments later Geralt asked if he could go now, making it look like the question had been asked, but not answered; the potions master was known for being easily distractible. Their fellow students either didn’t notice, or didn’t care to call attention to the deception, thank the gods.

One of Vesemir’s favorite punishments was making them run the walls around the keep, so there were several places to get up on top of there. Getting back down the outside without breaking your neck was the hard part. But there was an area by the gate you could make it down safely if you had a partner who knew what they were doing. This was not the first time Eskel and Geralt “escaped” together, and Eskel stretched across the wall and lowered Geralt to the first foothold, then Geralt helped him down and they continued that way until they dropped to safety. Then they just had to sneak through the open area until they made it to the woods nearby. 

"I really do gotta piss," said Eskel.

"Me too. Hey, let's see who can get higher up this tree!"

Eskel froze. He didn't know how to explain to his friend that he couldn't play that game. Geralt would laugh. He'd know that Eskel was different from the other boys. He'd tease, and maybe get mean. No, maybe not, he  _ had _ stood up for Eskel against those other boys after all. And he seemed nice, maybe it would be alright...

He rarely got stuck in his head like this, but the knowledge that he couldn't do something Geralt could do so easily mired his senses. 

"Esk? You okay?"

"I can't. No. I can't."

"Can't what?"

"Piss up a tree. Geralt, I can't. I can't, can't, can't..." The word was stuck on his tongue, then he realized he couldn't breathe. That was definitely a bigger problem. The world became grey, and he felt like he was falling.

"Eskel, it's alright. If you don't want me to see your wiener, we can..."

"No! I don't have one!" It came out a high-pitched squeak and Eskel froze all over again. Oh gods, he didn't mean to say that out loud. 

Before the panic could start to loop again, Geralt put a gentle hand on his shoulder. They leaned against the tree and slid down into a sitting position. Eskel wasn't sure when his friend wrapped him up in a tight hug, but it helped. They sat until he was calm and breathing normally.

"I bet you could still piss up the tree, though." Eskel looked at him confused, and opened his mouth to protest again.

"No, I mean, pull down your breeches and cock your hips forward. If you lean back a little ..." He stood up to demonstrate and Eskel joined him. After they let flow, Geralt stepped back to compare.

"You won, Eskel. I wouldn't have guessed that. Congratulations!" Eskel felt a shy smile slide across his face and looked down. Suddenly he began to giggle.

"What?"

"You have piss on your boot."

Geralt tackled him and they devolved rapidly into a good-natured wrestling match. When they made it back to the Kaer, they were certainly in for another hiding, but neither really cared as they walked home.

~~~~

The instructors watched their students closely, to separate the children as they began puberty. Over the last 6 months, they've chosen the next cohort. Each of the instructors needed to concur before the next phase. Vesemir was alone in his office when he read the list. He swallowed hard, but could not deny that it was time. He reminded himself that he was  _ not  _ deciding their fates. They would still get to make The Choice.

Once they've made The Choice, they'll be separated for mealtimes. There are certain herbs and fungi that would slowly but steadily become a regular part of their diets until it's time for the Trial of the Grasses. These additives will definitely make changes to their bodies; preparing them for the Trials, building up their tolerance, freeing their innate chaos, and halting certain growth processes while strengthening others. The actual length of time for this first Trial varies from cohort to cohort. Very few children die from this part of the process.

They eat separate from the other boys now, weird mushrooms and such in everything. He really didn't like the mossy stuff. It tasted terrible, bitter and strange, but even worse was the way it felt  _ almost chewy _ between his teeth, and then it would get stuck in them. It's just gross. At least the mushrooms were only a little funny-tasting.

Trevan started gagging on the soup the second day and the instructors rushed him out. He didn't come back and the rumor was that he had choked to death. But Eskel knew how unreliable rumors could be. After all, there was a rumor about a dragon that lived under the castle, but that wasn't true at all. He was pretty sure, anyway.

Eskel's chest was bigger than most of the other boys', and... squishier. Not that he didn't have plenty of muscle, he could lift Geralt up and hold him in the air before slamming him back to the ground. He was not weak, by any definition for a boy his age, but his body was just soft. Geralt's pecs were firm, Roger's abs would show and ripple whenever he moved, and Lurik's biceps were huge and solid. Eskel's muscles didn't show like that. He was big and strong, but somehow his body just ... _ looked soft _ compared to the others. Just one more reason he hid it. He always wore long-sleeved tunics, and made sure to bathe alone. He didn't  _ like _ being so obviously different from the others.

Once they made The Choice, they began learning signs. It was quickly apparent that Eskel was a natural. They started simply with the practice. Learn the name, learn how to form the sign. There was no information given yet about how to push their will, their energy, their innate chaos through themselves to make it work. They started with Aard, and as he moved his hand in the right shape, muttering the word, papers fluttered from Eskel's lap. Their entire cohort was immediately excited, everyone convinced Eskel had done it without the complete lesson. The instructors insisted it was just a breeze, but they watched Eskel carefully. He learned the signs easily and quickly got good at them.

Sometimes he could feel Vesemir watching him, but he didn't know why his abilities with signs would be important to the fencing instructor. Except that Vesemir maybe cared a bit more about him than he did some of the other kids, at least Eskel thought so. He didn't tell anyone that he thought of Vesemir as his papa. He guessed he felt that way because the old witcher saved him from the snows.

~~~

The Trial of Dreams will finish unlocking their magical potential, and enhance some of their senses and reflexes. Their daily training will become much more demanding now, beyond what they'd be able to do without these Trials. The death rate is slightly elevated from the initial Trial known as The Choice. This Trial involves the consumption of 3 philters which would be deadly without the months of preparations from The Choice. Again, discretion as to the student's readiness is left to the instructors who monitor their progress. If death occurs during this process, it is sudden and volatile, as these mixtures are otherwise vicious poison.

Those vials tasted truly nasty, and they made his stomach hurt as though he'd swallowed a bunch of bees that now lived in his guts and were trying to sting him to death from the inside. He wouldn't cry, he was a warrior. He needed to stay strong. He heard someone scream, and he wasn't sure that it wasn't himself. The pain built in his head until he passed out.

He woke slowly, feeling a hand clutching his. When he concentrated, he was aware of sounds he didn't think he'd been able to hear before. Shallow breathing and perhaps a heartbeat next to him? His fingers twitched.

"Hi, Esk." He was so very glad Geralt was curled up with him, and felt a small smile curve his lips. He stuck out his tongue and licked the tip of his friend's nose. The ensuing giggle-fit brought Vesemir in to check on them.

"If you two pups are feeling so good, perhaps you'd like to go train?"

"No," they responded in unison.

"Sorry Vesemir, we'll be quiet," said Eskel.

"If you can't you'll have to be moved. Lurik is still very ill from the Trial."

"Yes, sir!" Again, in unison.

Their training progressed rapidly. They were expected to fight, run and do other physical training for longer periods now. But Eskel was pleased that he could keep up. They didn't seem to  _ need _ as many breaks as they had before. He could see farther and better, he knew he could. He could count the bricks in the wall from over twice as far away now. It didn't take him long to learn how to translate that to moving along the wall or running The Killer quicker than ever. It took Geralt almost a week longer than him to get the judging of distances right, though. They both got in trouble for their slow pace when Eskel had to stop Geralt from leaping the crevice far too early. He would have tumbled into the gap and probably broken both his legs. Neither of them bothered to explain what happened to the instructors, they just took their punishments and continued their day.

Eskel's signs improved markedly. They were in the courtyard practicing Igni when Lurik leaned over and said something to him. He knew the instructors wouldn't hear or note what had been said, but Eskel had a rare moment and lost his temper. He most certainly was not sensitive and delicate like a little girl. The fire flowing from his hand crackled and billowed, just before the wall he'd been aiming at  _ exploded _ in a shower of sparks and stone. In the ensuing chaos, he punched Lurik in the face before storming off.

That night was the first time he heard it. Roger grinned at him during supper and said:

"See, Eskel, there is a dragon in Kaer Morhen. It's you."

Everyone laughed except Eskel. It was just another thing that marked him as different. Geralt immediately saw that it bothered him, and put his hand on Eskel's thigh to offer comfort. Eskel smiled nervously at his friend and probably would have licked his nose again, but at the dinner table, that kind of foolishness would get you in trouble.

He cried in the bath that night, taking much longer than he should. As he dried off, he caught sight of himself in the mirror. Maybe it was his shoulder-length hair that caused Lurik to say such things. He rummaged around until he found a razor left there by one of the older witchers, and looked intently at his long hair. He couldn't make it look good, but he could make it short. He reached for his hair with his left hand and froze as a knock sounded on the door.

"Eskel?"

If he stayed quiet, maybe whoever it was would go away and he could take care of this problem. but instead, the door rattled as though someone were trying to open it.

"Esk?" And now he recognized the voice. Geralt. The sob slipped from his lips, and now his friend started to sound worried.

"Eskel, please let me in. Please?"

He dropped the razor on the washstand and unlocked the door before curling into himself in the corner. Geralt held him tightly as he sobbed, and he tried to explain through his tears. When the sobbing finally began to slow, Geralt licked his nose and Eskel smiled wetly.

"We're tougher than their bullshit, Esk. Besides, you ever hear of a dragon afraid of bullshit?"

Lurik apologized the next day.

It took Eskel a few months to realize it, but Geralt had started to let his hair grow long.

~~~~

They've hit most of their growth spurts by now, and are practically adults. Hell, there are nobles who are taken to whorehouses to prove their manhood before some of these boys are ready for the Trial of the Grasses. But that Trial is rapidly approaching, Vesemir knows that the gentle child he found in the snow all those years ago struggles. Eskel is not like the other boys, and the instructor can tell it bothers the kid. The moppet does well at hiding it most of the time, but he's seen Eskel disappear without explanation sometimes after talking to one of the other boys. He's been watching his son's progress. Yes,  _ his son _ , he rescued this nearly-dead urchin from the snow; pried the mother's dead limbs apart, to discover a barely breathing stripling, suffering from hypothermia; frostbite trying to claim tiny fingers. If that doesn't make this child  _ his _ , he who can never create life from his own body, then he doesn't know what does.  _ His son's _ innate chaos is what will allow the cub to shape himself during the upcoming Trials. And while he's long thought of Eskel as his  _ son _ , he'll happily accept whatever the teen comes out of the Trials as. He won't allow himself to think of anything but his pup making it out the other side. He's a substantial sprout, he'll be fine. Vesemir calls Eskel into his office.

"You are aware your cohort is nearly ready for the Trial of the Grasses, yes?” Eskel nods. “The Trial will reshape your body, enhance your senses, change your eyes. It is designed to do all of this, to create a Witcher. That is its imperative. But I'll tell you something not everyone knows, Eskel. You can affect the changes; bend them to your will, if it is strong enough.”

The kid looked confused now, like he wasn’t sure he was following what Vesemir was saying to him.

“You're not the only Witcher who was born like that, you know. I have no doubt you're strong enough, boy. Hold the image in your mind, exert your will, and  _ force the mutagens to give you what you want. _ "

"Born like me? But how many of them made it? How many are Witchers now?" Vesemir waited until Eskel met his eyes, before he spoke, quietly and deliberately.

"At least one."

Eskel and Geralt sat waiting. It was nearly time. They knew a lot of boys didn't make it past this Trial. Then the mages came to collect them.

"I'll see you after, yeah?"

"Don't fail me, Geralt."

"Never."

Eskel knew what he wanted. He held the image in his mind. Through the screams, through the pain, through the breaking and reshaping of his body that made the Trial of Dreams feel like a walk by the lake, he kept that one thing in mind; right up to the point where he passed out from pain and exhaustion.

_ Everything _ hurt; existing was agony. The bed below him must be filled with rocks, and the body pressed against his side set his skin on fire.

"Eskel?" The voice in his ear was broken, cracking, but familiar. It meant his friend was cuddled against his side.

"G - Ger ..." His stomach heaved, but Geralt rolled him so he vomited into a pail beside the bed.

"It's okay, Esk. I've got you. You came back to me. We're gonna be okay, you and me."

"Geralt ..." He tried again, and his voice sounded broken too. It also sounded deeper. He opened his eyes, and though it was night time, with no candles or fires lit, it was far too bright in the room. Pain wracked his body, and he sobbed as Geralt pulled him into his arms. As the sobs abated, he realized Geralt was sobbing and groaning too. They lay quietly for a while, comforting each other in the dark.

"Next time you open them, contract your pupils."

"How?"

"Trial and error, but ... kind of like learning to blink."

Geralt's heartbeat was so slow. Most of the time he hadn't been able to hear it before, unless he put his head against his friend's chest, but he knew how fast a normal human heartbeat was. It was oddly comforting, hearing that slow rhythm so close to himself, feeling his friend curled around him.

"Hey, Esk," They were so close Geralt's breath tickled his ear as he whispered.

"Hmm?"

"You have a wiener now."

Eskel's eyes popped open in shock, and the sudden discomfort reminded him about his changed eyes. He struggled to control them, dilate his pupils to keep the light out. Geralt held a hand above his eyes to shield them while he figured it out.

"Better?"

"Yeah. Thanks, Geralt." The boy's long brown hair, now straight under its weight like Eskel's own, fell into his face as he grinned at his friend.

"Give me your hand." He gently guided a hand which felt far to large down Eskel's stomach over his tunic, until it rested on ...

That was definitely his pecker. He felt it under his hand, and he felt his hand on it. For a long moment he just lay there, holding it through his breeches, staring at Geralt in disbelief. His friend grinned back at him, looking pleased.

The door opened, and they shied away from the light that spilled in from the hall. Two men picked Geralt up and took him from the room. Eskel tried to complain, fight; anything to keep his friend next to him. Vesemir gathered him into his arms, holding his shuddering body close and shushing him gently.

"Where are they taking him, Vesemir?"

"He's been selected for extra Trials."

"Tell me he'll come back?"

"We can hope, son. We can hope."

They came back and took Roger too. Vesemir let Eskel sob into his chest until he fell back asleep. He woke again when he heard noises in the room, and saw Vesemir checking on the boy in the bed next to him. The bed that had been empty when he fell asleep.

"Geralt?" The boy on the bed did not move, but the older witcher looked at him.

"Comfort him gently, boy. He's the only one that survived." As he crawled into his friend's bed, he noticed the hair at Geralt's scalp was white. It took Geralt two days to wake up. Eskel licked his nose, and thought he saw Geralt's lips twitch a little. He didn't speak or make any sound for two more, though Eskel stayed with him talking to him. The adults - no, the older witchers, this Trial marked their own move into adulthood - tried a couple of times to remove Eskel, but Geralt held onto him with one hand and broke anything in range with the other, including Osbert's nose. The break in Geralt's silence finally happened when he reached between his legs, and Eskel stretched to grab the chamber pot, recognizing this as a sign that his friend's bladder was full. Geralt grunted, a sound of negation, and worked to sit up.

"Hey, Geralt, let's go piss up a tree." He said with a playful grin, reaching between his own legs. Geralt's lips twitched, and a small smile formed. The laugh that came from him startled them both.

"You'll be okay, Geralt. Lets get you taken care of." Geralt leaned over and licked his nose.

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/IamAlathe), if you'd like.


End file.
